Not really. “Snake” was our word for steak when we were in college. So last night, Charlie, who can’t eat red meat, was away at supper-time, and I decided to treat myself to a “snake”. I found a nice little rib eye on sale and bought it.

Made a salad of Romaine lettuce, sunflower seeds and little sweet red peppers with blue cheese dressing. Sliced a small potato into translucent slices and fried them into potato chips. Rubbed the rib eye with a smooshed garlic clove, salted and peppered it, and popped that sucker into the grilling machine for four minutes.

Oh, MY, everything was good! Just to be thoroughly bad, I made myself a highball. Haven’t had one in months and months.

So I had a lovely dinner. However.

The damn thing wouldn’t digest. I kept telling it, “I am NOT a vegetarian!” but the animal protein just sat there like a penguin in a polar bear cage. Except that a penguin in a polar bear would be digested, and this wasn’t having it.

I can see why people on the Atkins Diet lose weight–I haven’t been hungry since dinner last night. No snackies, 4 graham crackers for lunch, about 1/2 cup of vegetables for lunch…. I may never eat again. Meh!

As Mark Twain said, I’ve neglected my habits. But I’m still not a vegetarian. I’m NOT!


Writing prompt: Have a character who has inadvertently gotten out of a habit  have occasion to use it and be without it–ride a bike, swim strongly, smoke, bake a cake, whatever.